| Yo, there go the speakers, I’m naturally glowing, blowing sativa
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| Amazing display of art, unique as Mona Lisa
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| Non-believers, they bitching like R&B divas
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| I’m headache, chest pain, hard to breath fever
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| He’s a resident patient, F all the expectations
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| Echo the sentiment if you repping the rebel nation
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| Let go the arsenal, the odds impossible
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| Speak the gospel, we harder than army obstacles
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| Watch your dude monster mash for a wad of cash
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| Ironic how niggas garbage be talking trash
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| Hashtag more than rap, might fuck around
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| And lose your cataracts if you saw it in rap
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| Deep in the pits, i speak swift, pleading the fifth
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| Only time I go soft? |
| After pleasing your bitch
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| We the shit, official with the stripes and all
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| And for the drought? |
| we keep a high supply of the raw
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| Let’s make it understood, Czarface is a hero
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| But he’s up to no good (no good)
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| Nod ya head to this shit, but make it effortless, quick
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| When it comes to rap shit we the specialists, kid
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| 7 load the beat, the Nikes on my feet are deadstock
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| Until they go through your teeth
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| To my soldiers in the street, who are really cats in the lab
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| Rappers on their Ipad, trend-humping every fad
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| Give me something I can grab
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| Something with some substance
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| Your tracks be sounding flat, our tracks? |
| Kate Uptons
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| Listen: they took a quick poll, concluded I was a sick soul
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| Said you gotta see Czar, no Nick Kroll
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| Rappers talking 'bout how they living in that studio
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| They’re talking about their one-room apartment
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| To a homeless man, it’s beautiful
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| I guess they need some room to grow
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| But if they get a budget it’s, they talking «How that booty go?»
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| Sellout, sellout, muthafucka get the hell out
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| It’s time to break that Esoteric, Deck and 7L out
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| Keep balling, 'cuz emceeing ain’t your calling
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| Leave that shit to us, we rushing stages like Stalin |